London against Eternity
A little tree beside the motorway
Holds out a few slight branches to the light.
Five hundred tiny blossoms have their say.
They speak against London, with petals, white,
But it looms high on their horizon. Steel
And glassy skyscrapers blot the view, dumb
In gray response to flowered limbs. They feel
Victorious, though. The towers may be numb
In their gross hulkingness, yet they will spread,
Gargantuan viruses, towards the trees,
Encroaching out in future springs. This tread
Will crush the trunk in its maturity.
..The blooms rejoice in being supernal.
….Their sacred brevity looms eternal.